


C'mon Babe Let's Fix This Mess

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Frank Turner - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Song fic, Sort of? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 05:24:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4594479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire comes stumbling into the les Amis lives, guitar in hand and eponine in tow, with the intention of becoming their song writer and somehow he becomes their therapist. Not really but he listens to them talk, he writes about it and then he shows them how to sing about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C'mon Babe Let's Fix This Mess

When Grantaire saw the add he wanted to scroll past. I mean there were plenty of other jobs, most more suitable to his lifestyle than... This. But then he looked at what they were offering. 100 per song. Shit he could write seven songs per month if that meant paying rent. Eight if it meant having money for groceries. 

 

Then he looked at the add for a couple moments biting his bottom lip. It would be work. So would everything else, but making coffee at the closest hipster haven was simple, left no risk of dry spells. 

 

He sighed, wondering why he was even worried it wasn't like they were guaranteed to choose him anyways. And he could always not call them back. So he searched through his collection of thumb drives until he found his duct taped together one from college and pressed it in. He quickly attached his portfolio onto a quick, hopefully vaguely professional looking email and clicked send before he could regret it.  
*

 

He wasn't about to lie and say he had forgotten about it. But he wasn't waiting at the side of his bed staring at his phone staring at it like he was in some shit 2000's music video. What he did do was stay at home in the relative vicinity of his phone, making homemade Mac and cheese around the time he would usually be getting properly drunk with eponine. But he stayed cooking lazily, taking his time to toast the breadcrumbs as he hummed along with the playlist he had played in the background. 

 

It was in the break between songs when he heard the shrill first notes of a familiar song. It very distinctly did not fit into the chill mood the playlist had promised, and he blinked in confusion before he realized that it was his phone. Swearing he quickly slammed his laptop shut and rushed to the phone. Flipping it open perhaps too enthusiastically he greeted the person loudly.

 

"Grantaire, talk." Great super professional, good job.

 

"Hello we got your portfolio for the song writing position?" A tired voice asked politely a soft accent tilting their voice.

 

"Oh." Grantaire bit his lip jumping to sit on the counter. "Did ya like it?" 

 

"Yes, we wondering if you could stop by, talk to everyone, so we could see if you are a good fit?" The voice requested seeming distracted.

 

"Right now?" He looked to the stove where his food was cooking right now.

 

"Sorry it's late isn't it? Will it be too much trouble?" The person seemed sincerely concerned so grantaire couldn't help but want to agree.

 

"Actually I'm making Mac and cheese right now, so if you could give me fifteen then I'll fridge it and come over?" Grantaire offered.

"Mac and cheese!" A new voice shouted. Apparently he was on speaker. "Bring it and I'll love you forever!" 

 

"Shut up bahorel." The original voice snapped and Grantaire was grinning. "You don't have too." 

 

"Nah I have too much for myself here, I need to maintain my figure." Grantaire laughed and he immediately scolded himself with his familiarity with the stranger, but didn't do anything to take it back. He was rewarded by a booming laugh and allowed a relieved sigh to push past his lips.

 

"I like you already, drop by the Musain when you are ready." The voice requested and Grantaire scrambled for a pen and wrote the cafe name messily on the back of his arm.

 

"I'll be there."

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you want this to be a continuing thing I'm writing it at six in the morning so who knows if it's any good


End file.
